Adopted by the Avengers
by hiddlesbatchedcookie
Summary: A personal dream of mine to be adopted by Tom Hiddleston and accepted by his fellow actors as a member of an extended family... Don't like it don't read it, reviews and ideas appreciated :)
1. Chapter 1

When I was nine, I had the worst experience a person could have. My house caught fire, a faulty plug that had sparked and set the rug  
alight, and the flames had spread scarily quickly. When the smoke alarm woke me, I could hear my father shouting for me to run and get  
out of the house, and I did, leaving my downstairs bedroom and blindly running through the smoke, feeling for the front door, the handle  
burning my hand as I burst through the flames and into the night air. I stood in my pyjamas, waiting for my Mother and Father to rush out  
of the door after me, but as a crowd of neighbours gathered around me and I watched the windows blacken and shatter and smoke pour from  
their frames, no one came out of the house. I hit me like a bomb that maybe they wouldn't come running out, and I leapt back towards the  
blazing building, a strong arm catching me around the middle and holding me away from the fire. I beat my fists against the arm and back  
of Mr Jennings, the man from next door, whose strong grip held me safely out of harm's way. I cried and shouted for my parents, but no  
reply came, and I collapsed, sobbing onto Mr Jennings' shoulder. He lifted me into his arms and turned me away from the painful sight of  
my home crumbling into fire, rubbing comforting circles on my back as the sirens of a fire engine sounded and the men in red and yellow  
tried to get the flames under control. The crowd of people began to dissipate, and I was left clinging to Mr Jennings as the firemen ran  
into the house, shouting something about 'retrieving bodies'. A fireman spoke quickly to Mr J, who carried me to an ambulance that had  
just arrived on the street, sitting me down in the back and letting the paramedic give me oxygen and nurse my burned hand.  
'Nasty.' She had murmured to Mr J.  
'It will heal, but it will scar.'

…

Four months later and I sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair in a social worker's office, not really listening as the woman spoke slowly  
and kindly to me.  
'My name is Jenny. I'm the Head Care Worker here at Oak House. I know this is all new for you, but I want you to try to fit in here, the  
other children are very excited about having someone new moving in with us. Your bedroom is at the very top of the stairs, it's our last  
room. I'll help you take your things up there and then I'll leave you to get settled in, okay?' I simply nodded, looking down at my small  
rucksack of clothes and one slightly singed teddy bear that was retrieved from the wreckage of my home. My parent's funerals had happened  
a week after the incident, and for four months I had lived with Mr and Mrs Jennings, and while I was there they bought me some new  
clothes, but they were not legally my guardians and so I had been taken into care. Now I picked up my rucksack and made my way up to my  
new bedroom. It was a medium sized room, with a single bed against one wall. There weren't many furnishings, just a small writing desk  
and chair in one corner, a wardrobe, two shelves above the desk and a little bedside table that held a simple lamp. The window was quite  
big and I had a view of the garden, where currently all the other children that I now lived with were having a barbeque and relaxing in  
the summer heat. I slowly unpacked my clothes and put them away in the wardrobe. I pulled out my burned bear and set him on the writing  
desk, and stacked the shelves with the books that Mrs Jennings had given me to read while I was bored or to take my mind off the wreck of  
my former home that was just next door. Now fully unpacked, I hung my rucksack in the wardrobe and slumped down on the bed.

After a few minutes, a soft knock sounded on my door and I got up to open it, finding on the other side a girl of around five, who smiled  
sweetly at me with big blue eyes.  
'Jenny said to ask if you would like to come down and meet everyone?' She asked, staring at me. I shrugged, then nodded, thinking I may  
as well get it over with, and the girl grinned and took my hand, leading back downstairs.

'I'm Annie. Jenny said your name is Chris, but I thought that is a boy's name. Did your parents give you a boy's name?' She inquired, and  
I shook my head.

'No, my real name is Christina, but I don't like that name, so everybody calls me Chris.' I mumbled.

We reached the garden and I saw seven other children playing a cheerful game of football on the grass, and three adults on folding chairs  
by a barbeque. Annie gently led me over to the adults, who stood and smiled kindly down at me, something people had been doing since that  
awful night. Each adult introduced themselves, shaking my hand and giving me a short welcome. Jenny stood with two men and one young  
woman, who were called Alex, James and Celia. I shook their hands politely and glanced nervously at the group of children, who had  
noticed me and were making their way over to where I stood.

...

Five years later, and I sat again on the uncomfortable chair in Jenny's office, staring at my hands as she spoke to me. This time, I was  
not new, and her voice was less kind. This time I could hear disappointment in her tone, as well as frustration. Frustration with me.

'Why, Chris? Why do you keep doing this? Fighting doesn't solve anything! Henry and Jane tell me you got into another fight at school,  
and what's worse, you ran away again! You can't do that! It's why they brought you back here. People can't handle a child who starts  
fights and then runs off like that! I'm sure that you had a reason to punch that boy, but you should know by now that the only place  
violence is going to get you is back here!' Jenny barked, and I bit my lip, wincing when I remembered it was split. I waited patiently  
for her rant to end, the trudged back up the stairs to my room at the top, flinging myself down on the bed and sighing.

That Kyle Waters had started it. I only punched him because he had been picking on Annie, who, though she was ten now, was still small  
and skinny. I had jumped in while he was calling her an 'unwanted idiot' and told him to back off, but when he called me a 'home-wrecking  
fire-starter', I lost it and thwacked him right in the jaw. I had started the fight sure, but I wasn't the one to finish it. When the  
teachers finally pulled us apart, I was winded, had a bleeding nose, a bruised cheek and a split lip, but Kyle had come off worse, his  
cheek and nose were bleeding, and his jaw was beginning to turn a shade of purple that matched the bruise on his ribs.

We had been dragged off to the Head's office and suspended for a week, at which point my foster parents had arrived and taken me home,  
where I found my clothes packed and my belongings in boxes.

'We made a deal,' Henry had said. 'You know we can't deal with you fighting like this. We're… We're going t have to take you back to Oak  
House.' I just stood there for a moment, still holding a tissue to my bleeding nose, before pushing past Henry and Jane and running back  
out the front door, ignoring their shouts to come back. I had ran for an hour, finally ending up at my park, relishing the quiet  
emptiness that it always had. Nobody liked to go to that park, it was mostly trees and patchy grass, and there was a bigger, greener,  
more spacious park just down the road. So I was alone in the quiet, where I could calm down.

It took them forty five minutes to find me, after they had searched all my other usual hiding places. I had said nothing, just slumped  
into the back of the police car that had found me and been driven straight to Oak House, where my bags had been unceremoniously dumped  
back in my old room.


	2. Chapter 2

At breakfast a few weeks later, I sat and munched dry toast in silence, feeling moody because I knew what today was. Jenny and James had  
organized a trip, and Celia, James and Alex were taking everyone to a theme park for the day.  
Everyone except me.

Celia had sat me down the night before, when everyone else had gone up to bed (being the eldest, I had half an hour to myself after  
everyone else had gone before I had to go up to my room) and explained to me that as a treat for the other children, they had planned a  
surprise trip to a theme park, but that I wasn't allowed to go. I was a 'flight-risk', because the last time I had gone with them on a  
trip the noise and people had driven me crazy and I had disappeared, ruining the trip as it was spent looking for me instead of seeing  
all the exotic animals in the zoo. I had simply nodded, preferring to stay behind anyway, and promised not to reveal the secret to the  
others.

Now everyone was rushing about finding hats and coats and shoes and bags and purses, and I sat where I was, deliberately eating my toast  
especially slowly. Jenny was staying behind with me, while everyone went to the theme park, so I went up to my room and put on Thor, my  
favourite film. While watching the film I flipped open my sketchbook and began to draw the characters, Loki being my favourite. I was  
putting the finishing touches to a fourth sketch, this one being Loki's desperate face as he confronts Odin, when a soft knock came from  
the other side of my door.

Sighing, I put down my pencil and pad and crossed the room to open the door. Jenny smiled at me, and asked if she could come in. The mess  
was mostly just my sketching pencils and rubbers scattered across the floor, with the sketchpad in the middle, so I stepped back and let  
her in.

Jenny stepped carefully over the various coloured and graphite pencils, sitting down on the bed and inviting me to sit with her. I did,  
and she took a deep breath, placing a hand on my knee.

'Chris, I've had a few phone calls over the past month, from someone very special. I know your past foster homes haven't quite worked out  
so far, but I want to know if you're ready to try again. There's a man who would like to meet you, if you would like.' I listened to her  
tone of voice, not understanding why she would sound so excited and nervous when telling me something she has told me five times before.

'What do you mean, someone special? Is it someone I know?' I asked, and Jenny grinned. She looked around at my bedroom walls, which I had  
plastered with three years worth of sketches, mostly of one actor, varying in detail and style. Most of my sketches were of Tom  
Hiddleston in various acting roles, Loki being my favourite. My wardrobe door held posters and sketches of him solely as Loki,  
overlapping and covering each other, there were so many.

I followed her gaze, confused. Then an idea hit me, and impossible though it was, I silently begged for it to be true.

'When you say 'special', do you mean… Famous?' I asked, barely hiding the hope in my voice. Jenny nodded slowly and my heart skipped a  
beat.

'Is he here now?' I asked breathlessly. Another nod. I forced myself to take deep breaths, looking down at my Loki pyjamas. I jumped up  
off the bed and ran to my wardrobe, yanking open the doors and rifling through my clothes, finding black skinny jeans, my favourite  
Marvel shirt and a pair of converse patterned with the union flag.

'I will be down in exactly ten minutes.' I said, turning to grin manically at jenny as she left the room. She nodded cheerily and shut  
the door behind her. I quickly dressed and dragged a brush through my long dark hair. I applied a little bit of concealer to the almost-  
healed bruise on my cheek, hiding it from view. I stared at my mirror, breathing deeply, as I told myself not to freak out when I met the  
man downstairs.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, it suddenly occurred to me that this couldn't possibly be real. My idol would never have come here  
to meet me. I turned, about to rush back up to my room, when jenny caught my wrist and led me to the living room, gently nudging me  
through the door way.

'He's just in my office, he'll be through in two ticks, just sit here and wait a mo.' She smiled, sitting me in the comfiest arm chair ,  
right next to the open glass doors that led out into the garden. The gentle breeze drifted in through the open door and I welcomed the  
coolness of it on my face, letting it wash over me as I closed my eyes.

Suddenly, I heard the door creak open, and Jenny walked in, followed by a tall, thin man. A huge grin spread across my face, only to be  
wiped off a second later.

That was not the man I was expecting. I was right, it was a joke. Of course Tom Hiddleston would never have come from London to meet me.  
Embarrassed at having been taken in by the lie, I jumped up and ran out of the room through the open door, down to the clump of bushes  
and trees at the bottom of the garden. Jenny shouted my name, but I ran through an almost invisible gap in the hedge and came to stop in  
the same tiny clearing I always disappeared off to when I wanted to get away from people.

I slumped down on the moss covered bench and scolded myself for believing an obvious lie so easily. I heard a rustle in the leaves behind  
me and groaned. Jenny, come to apologise or to tell me off for running and hiding. The rustling stopped and I could feel that someone  
stood behind me. I sighed in annoyance and turned to tell Jenny to leave me alone.

Except it wasn't Jenny. I toppled backward off the seat in surprise and two strong, broad hands caught me and lifted me back onto my  
seat. I steadied myself with hands gripping the bench beneath me as I heard an incredibly familiar voice behind me.

'Chris? May I join you?' My heart raced as the man's soft, cautious voice reached my ears. I nodded timidly, and kept my eyes trained on  
the ground as the man moved to sit next to me. Slowly, carefully, I lifted my head and looked sideways at him, daring to believe that  
this was really happening.

Kind, blue-grey eyes gazed concernedly at me, a frown turning down the corners of his lips and wrinkling his forehead. He wore a plain  
white shirt with a grey waistcoat and trousers, which he did not seem to care about as he sat on the damp, mossy bench. A huge grin  
spread across my face as I saw that Tom Hiddleston, my idol, was sat next to me in my special place, staring at me with a mix of  
confusion and concern.

I stood up and turned to face him, my face turning serious as I drew a deep breath.

'Am I dreaming?' I asked seriously. It was the only explanation I could find for him being here. Tom laughed, a quiet chuckle that warmed  
my insides. He stood up, a good foot and a half taller than me, and looked down at my serious face.

'No, you're not dreaming. My name is Tom.' He said, smiling and offering me his hand to shake. I took it, and when my hand didn't pass  
straight through his I ruled out the possibility of this being a hallucination. His long skinny fingers wrapped around my hand and I  
grinned.

'I know your name, Mr Hiddleston Sir, I'm a bit of a fan of yours.' I whispered, suddenly awestruck by his presence. He chuckled and let  
go of my hand, placing one of his on my shoulder so I looked up into his face.

'Call me Tom.' He insisted.

'Yes, Sir.' I replied, and he smiled again, a genuine smile that crinkled the skin by his eyes and showed off his perfect teeth.

'Tom. I'm uh, I'm sorry if we freaked you out earlier, I didn't mean to make you run off. Are you alright?' He asked, moving so that we  
both sat back down on the bench.

I bit my lip.

'I saw a guy walk in that wasn't you and I thought Jenny was tricking me. I felt so stupid waiting for you when you weren't coming, so I  
ran. I'm sorry.' I mumbled, quickly and quietly, trying not to notice the heat growing in my cheeks as the embarrassment hit me again. I  
picked at my flaking nail varnish, not meeting his eyes.

Tom sighed and put a hand on my shoulder again, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. I looked up at him as I chewed my lip.

'I was behind him, he's my friend. I'm sorry we made you feel embarrassed.' He said softly, and I shrugged.

'Not your fault, I shouldn't have legged it.' I mumbled again. Smiling, he patted my knee.

'Listen, Chris, I was hoping I could get to know you a bit, you know, while it's just you here. Maybe we could go somewhere a little  
less… damp? If we sit here much longer we're both going to look like we've wet ourselves.' Tom said, and I immediately jumped up from the  
seat.

'We could go see my room, if you like?' I offered, and Tom grinned at me and nodded, standing up too. I found the hidden gap in the hedge  
without even looking, dragging back the leaves to let Tom through. He thanked me and squeezed past, and I followed him out of the bushes  
just as it began to rain. Quickly, not wanting his fancy clothes to get soaked, I grabbed his hand and pulled him into a run, dashing  
across the grass and back into the living room. Inside, I walked with him through the now empty room into the hall, where Jenny stood  
with Tom's friend, who introduced himself as John. I smiled and shook his hand, then I realized that both John and Jenny were grinning,  
looking at my hand. Following their gaze, I realized that I still had my hand gripping Tom's, and let it drop like a hot potato,  
murmuring an apology to Tom, who simply chuckled.

'Uhm, my room's at the top, if you still want to go see it.' I said blushing slightly again as the three adults grinned. Tom nodded, and  
I led the way up the stairs to my room, which had photos and drawings of Marvel characters plastered over the door, the biggest image  
being an A3 sketch I did myself of Loki. I looked shyly at Tom, who beamed at me, and opened the door, holding it open for him to step  
through first, but Tom pressed a hand against the door and gestured for me to go first.

'Ladies first.' He grinned, and I ducked under his arm and into my room, suddenly very conscious of the number of drawings and images of  
him and the actors he had worked with stuck to every wall. I tried to gather up all the pencils I had left on the floor before he could  
notice my mess, but I wasn't quick enough and soon he was on his knees next to me, helping me gather my arty paraphernalia. I thanked him  
and dumped all the pencils into a box on my desk. Turning to pick up the sketch pad, I found the Tom had picked it up and was sat on the  
bed, flipping through the pages, which I knew were full of him and Chris Hemsworth in scenes from Thor and the Avengers. I bit my lip and  
sat on the bed with a foot of distance between us, watching his face as he scrutinized my work.

He handed the pad back to me and gave me a small smile, which I returned nervously.

'You're very talented, Chris.' He said, nodding at the pad. I smiled and put the pad on my desk.

'Thanks, I like to draw.' I answered, crossing my legs and turning to face him, and grinning as he did the same, kicking off his shoes  
and crossing his legs beneath him.

A moment of silence followed, and a hundred questions whizzed through my mind. Deciding to start with a simple one, I mumbled a question.


	3. Chapter 3

'So, uhm, why are you here? Not that I don't want you to be, I idolize you, I just don't understand why you came here while all the other kids are out. Most people looking to take a kid out for the day come when everybody is here.' I asked, my mumble becoming clearer as I spoke. Tom looked so relaxed around me that it was hard to feel awkward with him. He leaned forward, toward me, and I could almost hear some nervousness in his voice as though he was afraid I wouldn't like his answer.

'I came here today specifically because the other children wouldn't be here. I have been talking to Jenny for a while now about… meeting a child, and she thought you would be the best one for me to get to know. She didn't want us to be interrupted by the other children or for you to get any unwelcome attention because of me, so I arranged to come on a day when I knew you would be here alone. Sorry you missed out on the theme park.' He said, grinning nervously. I continued biting my lip, not letting my imagination get too far ahead of me. It was enough that Tom Hiddleston was here, let alone that he came here for me.

'When you say 'meeting a child', do you mean that this isn't just a one-time sympathy thing? Like, you're not just here because I'm a 'flight risk' and I can't go on the trips?' I asked, and Tom nodded, and though his brow creased a little when I said 'flight risk', he said nothing about it. I beamed when he nodded, and resisted the urge to fling my arms around his neck and hug him.  
Instead I jumped off the bed and ran to my wardrobe, pulling a camera from the top shelf. Turning back to the bed, I held up the camera.

'Would you mind? For my wall…' I asked sheepishly, and Tom replied with a grin.

'Not at all.' He said, coming over to take the camera from me, putting a hand on my back and posing for a picture. As he pressed the shutter, I squealed and jumped away from him, leaving him alone in the photo with a surprised expression. He raised an inquiring eyebrow at me and I shrugged apologetically, reaching for the camera.

'I uh, I meant could I take one of you? I don't like being on camera. Sorry.' I mumbled, and Tom frowned at my guilty tone, but agreed to the photo, picking up my sketchpad and flicking through to a sketch of him grinning evilly, making the same face and holding the pad next to his head. I took the photo and he put the pad down, coming to lean over me and t=look at the result. It was a great photo, and I turned off the camera, satisfied, and put it on my desk so later I could print out the photo.

'Thanks!' I said as I sat back down on the bed. Tom came to sit next to me smiling at my obvious happiness.

'You're welcome, my pleasure.' He replied.

'So, what do you wanna do?' I asked, knowing full well that there wasn't much to do at all. Tom resumed his earlier position, legs crossed and facing me.

'I want to get to know you, and I want you to get to know me. Let's just chat for a while, then we can go out and do something, if Jenny will let us.' He said, and I blushed a little pinker.

'Okay then,' I said, grabbing a cushion and hugging it to my chest.

'What do you want to know?' I asked, and Tom began a stream of questions.

'What is your favourite food?' He began.

'Sunday roast, though we never have it here. Yours?'

'I love fish and chips. What's your favourite film?'

'Um, it's actually Thor, but I like 'The King And I' too, even though it makes me cry.'

'Favourite hobby?'

'Drawing. It's kind of therapeutic.'

'What's your least favourite school subject?'

'I dunno, probably History, my teacher is super strict.'

The questions went on for nearly an hour, until one question tripped me up.

'What is your worst fear?' Tom had asked, and a shiver had run down my spine. I closed my eyes and whispered a reply.

'Fire.' I said, and Tom fell silent. He must know, Jenny will have shown him my file. He'll have read all about my parent's deaths, and the rumours that followed it. He'll have seen that I've ruined five attempts at a foster family. He'll know what I did each time. Tom reached out and put a comforting hand on my knee, and I glanced up at an entirely compassionate expression that made me feel like I was nine again and Mrs J was sitting on the edge of their spare bed with a hand on my knee, kindly waiting for me to fall asleep.

'I'm sorry, Chris. About your parents. Jenny told me about it, I shouldn't have asked that question- ' He began, his eyes unhappy. I shook my head, bringing a smile to my face.

'That was five years ago. I've had five sets of parents since then. It hurts still but it's never… not going to, I just need to stop thinking about it and move on. You know?' I asked, and he nodded, his face shifting back to his easy smile.

I patted the back of his hand and got up off the bed, crossing to my wardrobe and removing my favourite black leather jacket from inside, slipping it on over my tee, which I now realized had a picture of Chris Hemsworth on it as Thor. I grinned over at Tom as he stood up, raising an eyebrow at me.

'Let's go see if Jenny will let me go out, I fancy an ice cream.' I said, still grinning, and he waved his hand for me to lead the way. I caught his hand in the air as I passed him and pulled him through the door and down to Jenny's office. I knocked on the door and pushed in, dropping Tom's hand as we entered and I begged for permission to go out. Jenny saw the ridiculously excited smile on my face and nodded, and Tom and I waited for John to grab his coat before the three of us set out on a walk to one of my spots.

I chatted comfortably with the two men as we walked, John closest to the road, me in the middle and Tom on my other side as we walked along the pavement. John was a good friend of Tom's and he had volunteered to come with him to meet me because, he said, Tom was nervous.

I giggled, and both men looked at me.

'It's just weird to imagine that someone like you would get nervous over something as small as meeting me.' I giggled, and they chuckled with me. John put a hand on my shoulder as we walked, squeezing it as he replied in a conspiratorial tone.

'He was so nervous! He was pacing around the hotel room for ages. I had to threaten to make him go alone just to get him to sit down.' He stage-whispered and Tom smiled shyly at me. John continued.

'Still, adoption is a big thing, so you'd expect him to be nervous –'He cut off abruptly as I gasped and stopped dead on the pavement, staring incredulously at both men.

'Adoption? You mean… You mean that y-you're not just going to visit me h-here every once in a while? Y-you want t-to… a-adopt me?' I stammered, staring now at Tom. He breathed out a sigh and crouched in front of me, staring calmly into my eyes.

'It was going to start with just visits, yes, to get to know each other. But, yes. The plan was that I would, um, adopt you, if you would let me?' Tom said the last bit like a question, and I squealed. Tom was taken by surprise and stiffened when I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight, realizing that he had just made my biggest dream come true. He relaxed a few seconds later, chuckling and putting his arms around me, hugging me back.

'So, can I take that as a yes?' He asked teasingly when I finally let him go, and I bounced on the balls of my feet and nodded an enthusiastic yes. Tom grinned widely and stood up again, offering me his arm. I giggled again and tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow, and we walked on with my hand on his arm, his other hand over mine. John walked cheerfully next to us, and when I held out my arm to him with a grin he tucked my other hand into his elbow and held it as Tom was doing with my other hand.

We chatted and walked until we came to a little corner shop, mainly a touristy one, with postcards and fishing nets out on display. I ducked inside and they followed, browsing the plastic toys and collections of seashells as I went to the ice cream counter and pulled my purse from my jacket pocket, ordering three 99 flake ice creams for us from my friend Harry, who was serving.

As he scooped the ice cream into the cones, Tom and John came to stand behind me, taking their ice creams as I passed them back. Harry didn't notice the men behind me as he asked for £2.97, but when I dug in my purse for the right coins, Tom put a hand on my arm and tossed a ten pound note onto the counter, pushing my money away. I looked up at him and he winked at me, politely thanking Harry as he handed over the change. We turned and left the shop, and as I reached the door I heard Harry mutter to himself.

'That's not him, can't be… Looked like him, like Loki… Nah, impossible…' I laughed to myself as I walked with John and Tom to the nearby empty park that I had been found at least four times after running away, relishing in the quiet that would allow Tom's fame to go unnoticed. We sat on a bench and finished our ice creams, and I pointed out the bare football-pitch sized stretch of grass, with the trees at each end that made slightly lop-sided goals, Tom had an idea, quickly stuffing another ten pounds into John's hand and telling him to run back to the shop and buy one of the footballs they had in a big wire basket outside the shop.

John jogged off, and Tom and I got up and walked a slow lap around the park I knew so well, chatting easily.

'I come here all the time, I like the quiet. Sometimes I'll have a kick about with Harry if he's free, but usually I just climb the trees or listen to music. That oak over there, the big one by the edge of the pitch, its hollow all the way through, like a shell. I used to hide inside it when people came looking for me when I was in trouble.' I pointed out the tree, jogging over to it, Tom following. I found the crack in the bark that I used to spy on the police men through, showing it to Tom. He bent and put his eye to the hole, and grinned when he saw that the tree was really hollow.

'I used to climb trees all the time as a kid.' He said, straightening up. The corner of my mouth tilted up. I smirked at Tom, my voice raising in a joking but challenging way.

'I bet you can't climb anymore,' I challenged him, watching his grin spread.


	4. Chapter 4

When John returned five minutes later, he looked around in confusion, unable to see Tom or me. We hid in a tree directly above his head, smothering our giggles as he glanced about, furrowing his eyebrows. My giggles wobbled the branch I balanced on, a couple of inches away from Tom, who straddled a thicker branch and dangled his feet so they hung a foot above John's head. I giggled again and slipped sideways, knocking into Tom, who caught me with an arm around my middle and pulled me onto his branch. We reached up and both gripped branches above our heads as John heard us rustling in the tree and looked up to see us perched above him.

Our giggles broke into real laughter and we climbed down, and I noticed green smudges on Tom's nice waistcoat and frowned guiltily, but my frown disappeared when Tom reached the ground and reached up to lift me out of the tree. I grinned and jumped from my perch, still halfway up the tree, landing perfectly on the ground beside him. Tom's mouth had fallen open in shock when I jumped and I grinned when the shock turned to an impressed nodding.

'Let's play.' I said picking up the ball and jogging with the men over to the pitch.

Without enough people for a real game, we simply kicked the ball about, laughing and running around. I was so happy, to be there playing with anyone, let alone Tom Hiddleston. When John tackled the ball away from me, I stuck out a foot and he fell, landing with a soft thump on the grass. I laughed out loud as Tom ran over and helped him up, then stole the ball and ran off with it in his arms. We chased him until we caught him and the three of us fell in a heap onto the floor and lay there, my head landing on Tom's outflung arm, laughing and out of breath.

I thought about the last time I had run around in the park and enjoyed it like this. My smile faded as I remembered the day of the fire. That morning my Dad had taken me to the park and we had kicked around the ball with Hex, our dog. We had run and laughed and eventually collapsed in the shade of an old tree, our Labrador puppy slumped across my legs.

I suddenly jumped up from where I lay on Tom's arm and strode away a few paces, trying to dash away the tears that suddenly sprung into my eyes. Tom and John sat up, confused. I stood with my back to them, breathing deep, getting control before the wetness in my eyes spilled over.

Tom got up slowly and came to stand beside me, concern wrinkling his forehead. He reached out to put a hand on my shoulder, gently turning me to face him. I bit my lip and stared at the ground, letting my hair hang in a curtain that hid my watery eyes. Tom crouched down in front of me, looking up into my face.

His hand fell from my shoulder and caught my hand instead when I tried to turn away. I sniffed and he took my other hand, squeezing slightly, not saying anything, letting me calm down a little before he spoke.

'Chris, what is it? Is something wrong?' He asked, and I hated the guilt in his voice. He thought he had done something wrong, but I was upset because it felt so right, to be here, to have someone treat me like a normal person, to have him want to continue spending time with me. To adopt me, even.

'No,' I whispered. His grip on my hand relaxed and I didn't think for a second. I didn't want him to see me cry. I felt guilty for having a shot at living with Tom Hiddleston when I was the reason that I didn't have real parents instead. I bolted. My hands slipped out of his and I turned and ran, but Tom was quick, and he ran immediately.

Usually, when I ran, nobody bothered to follow me. But Tom kept pace with me, though I was certain he could outrun me. He ran after me, keeping his distance but not letting me out of his sight. I pelted into the thick trees that surrounded the park and wove between them until one tripped me and I landed in a pile of dead leaves.

Tom dashed forward to help me out, and this time I was crying silently, not holding back the tears. He stood me up and put his arms around me, stroking my hair as I sniffled and wiped my face on my sleeve. I stepped back from him and tried not to look at the small damp spot on his waistcoat.

'I-I'm s-sorry.' I mumbled, and Tom sighed.

'Flight-risk indeed.' He smiled, sitting down on a thick tree root that stuck out of the ground. I sniffed and sat down on the damp ground, knowing Tom would wait here for me to explain.

'I'm sorry I ran off. I… I felt guilty. I shouldn't have run, you could have got in trouble. Sorry.' I mumbled into my sleeve. Tom smiled kindly at me. He was being so nice, after I had just tried to run away from him that I felt guilty all over again.

'Don't be sorry Chris. I know you've been through some stuff. This must be so weird for you; Jenny told me you don't get that many people come to visit, let alone… Well, someone like me. I didn't mean to upset you.' Despite my unhappy mood, I giggled.

'"Someone like you?" You're TOM freaking HIDDLESTON, and you told me an hour ago you wanted to adopt me! That NEVER happens to people like me, with my… History.' I smiled as my idol sat on the mossy ground two feet from me.

'Chris… I know it's none of my business, but you were so happy ten minutes ago… Why did you run? Don't say if you don't want to, I know I'm prying.' Tom asked, and the look of genuine concern in his eyes made me want to tell him the truth.

'I just… It's not your fault, today has been beyond amazing, but I felt… Guilty. My Dad and I went to a park just like this one on the same day of the… You know. It felt right, being here with you and John, and then I remembered Dad and Hex, my puppy, in the park, and what happened to them, and I felt guilty, you know? Like, I had my chance at a family, and I ruined everything. It's my fault they're not around anymore, and then I get given so many chances and I blow them all because I don't deserve them and I make them bring me back here. Then you come, and it's like a dream come true, but I shouldn't be the one getting the dream, the other kids are so much better than me, and I got upset, and I ran. I really, really want to see you again, if you still want to come again, but you won't because now you know what I did. I'm sorry, I know you read my file, but I don't think Jenny told you how much of a screw up I am. I won't hate you for leaving.' I mumbled, quickly and stiffly, trying to keep my voice level.

Tom's face fell slowly as I spoke, then his brows knit together as I said the last bit. He sighed and stood up, and I hugged my knees, waiting for him to leave so I could cry properly without him seeing.

But he didn't leave. He took a couple steps forward to stand in front of me, and extended his hand. I looked up, puzzled, and he gazed seriously at my face. He gestured for me to take his hand, and he pulled me up to stand before him, keeping my hand in case I bolted again.

'Why would I leave? I have read your file, Chris, but I was in that office with your head care worker for an hour, talking about you. There are parts that she wanted to let you tell me when you were ready, but I know that that awful accident was just that. An accident. It wasn't your fault, and you're not a screw up. Whatever made you think you are is wrong.' I sniffed disbelievingly, and Tom caught my chin, turning me to look at him.

'I meant it, Chris. Nobody as lovely as you could be as bad as you seem to think. And as for leaving? I'm not going anywhere. Today has been really amazing for me too, and I like you. So yes, I still want to see you and if you will, I still want you to come and live with me. If and when you want to tell me whatever else there is, I'll listen.' He smiled at my widening eyes as I realised I hadn't scared him off. Hope and joy and shocked surprise played on my face, and Tom's grin grew, crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes. He let go of my chin and stood up, brushing the bits of moss and dead leaves off of his clothes. He glanced back at me.

'Now, do you still want to live with me?' He asked, grinning. I squealed and nodded, bouncing on the balls of my feet. Tom laughed out loud and picked me up, hugging me and spinning me round twice before he put me down again, my cheeks bright from laughing.


	5. Chapter 5

When we found John again, he raised an eyebrow at the two of us as we came jogging out of the trees hand in hand and laughing. John asked no questions, seeing our happy smiles, but checked his watch and grimaced, laughing that we should have been back at Oak House thirty minutes ago.

We ran the whole way back to Oak House, and met a cross-looking Jenny in the driveway. We slowed to a walk when she saw us, but the grins on our faces could be seen from a distance, and Jenny's own scowl relaxed into a tired smile as we drew nearer.

'Jenny, I-' I began, thinking up an excuse when Tom cut in.

'Sorry we're late, it was my fault. We bought a football and I insisted on finishing our game.' He said, looking at Jenny with blue puppy dog eyes. She crumbled in seconds and I giggled into my sleeve. John elbowed me in the ribs, though he has chuckling too.

Jenny led us back inside and asked Tom for a chat in her office, so I went upstairs to change out of my muddy clothes. I changed and put on some Beatles music, when John knocked on my door. I called out for him to come in, and he stepped inside, letting the door swing half-shut behind him. I stood by my desk, tying my hair into a high ponytail, and motioned with my head for him to sit on the bed.

'Listen, kid, sorry if I freaked you out earlier, I guess you were expecting to see Tom straight away. Sorry about that.' He muttered, and I sighed.

'It wasn't your fault John; I just overreacted and ran off. That was my fault, not yours.' I said, tugging my hair to tighten the pony tail. He nodded and stood up, clapping me warmly on the shoulder before leaving, pulling the door half-closed as he went, and saying to me over his shoulder that Tom will come up and find me when he gets out of the office.

Alone in my room, I revelled in the awesome events of the day. I still couldn't believe that Tom was here, and for me of all people. I put on some Linkin Park and sang along to 'Numb' as I pulled out yet another sketchpad from my desk drawer. This one was empty, and I flipped it open to the first page and began to draw.

I knew that he would be in there with jenny for at least half an hour, assessing how our day had gone. Tom had promised not to tell jenny about my little freak out, and I trusted him to keep his word. I lay down on my stomach on the floor of my room and began sketching out our day. I drew Tom's face when he found me in the garden, and the three of us walking along the path, my arms in theirs. I drew John's head as we had seen it from the tree, and Tom's hands that gripped the branches as he held us up. Any odd moment that popped into my head as I thought about this amazing day was immediately put onto paper, and within a quarter of an hour, I had covered six pages, front and back, with my little doodles.

A few minutes later, as I was drawing the cloudy sky and the leafy trees we had stared up at as we collapsed on the grass, Jenny knocked on my door, leaning in through the half open doorway and smiling at me.

I got up and walked over to the door, opening it fully and walking out to join Jenny in the hall. She put an arm around my shoulder and we walked downstairs.

I could feel that Jenny was unusually happy, but I didn't ask why, knowing that she would probably tell me downstairs anyway. We walked into the living room, where Tom sat chatting comfortably with John over mugs of tea. I took the armchair opposite Tom, and Jenny handed me a mug of tea from the tray on the coffee table. I sipped it happily, noticing the grins on Tom and John's faces were equally as big as Jenny's own smile.

'Chris?' Jenny began, and I turned to face her. She looked nervous and excited again, so I waited for her to keep talking.

'Tom has told me that you found out today that he had wanted to adopt you, and that you were very… pleased with the idea?' She asked, and the knowing look on her face said that she knew I was more than 'pleased'. I nodded and Tom chuckled.

'Well,' Jenny continued. 'Obviously, what with Mr Hiddleston being who he is, we know that we need to keep this relatively quiet, for yours and his sakes.' I nodded again, knowing that if the press found out about Tom Hiddleston adopting that nobody would get any peace.

'I have spoken with a few people, and we have agreed that certain things could be passed over while we try to keep this quiet. Things like… Well, each child is supposed to spend four months minimum getting to know their adoptive parents, but it has been decided that your waiting period will be shortened a bit. Is that okay with you?' Jenny spoke slowly, letting what she said sink in. I smiled and nodded a third time, and Jenny gestured with her hand to Tom, who shifted forward in his seat and spoke to me.

'What Jenny is saying, Chris; is that her boss has decided to let me adopt you… in three weeks.' He said, and I dropped my mug of tea in surprise. I immediately jumped up and fetched a tea towel to mop up the spill, shaking a little with excitement.

'So, in three weeks… I can… You want me to… Live with you?' I stuttered, barely containing the delight in my voice. Tom grinned widely at me, a silent yes, and I squealed out loud, making all four of us laugh.

'Of course, I'll be visiting you in those three weeks, but at times when the other children won't be around.' Tom assured me, and my face lit up all over again.

We talked about the details for a while, and then John received a text telling him that Tom was required at a photo shoot in half an hour. He frowned a little, but when I got excited and asked about the shoot, he brightened up and explained it to me. I listened intently and giggled when he complained about the odd outfits he was sometimes asked to wear.

Ten minutes later, John apologised, saying that they really had to go. Though I was disappointed, I understood, but I asked them to wait for one minute while I dashed up to my room and found the sketchpad Tom had seen. I found and carefully ripped out a certain page and hurried back downstairs to where they stood in the hall.

I handed Tom the piece of paper, and he laughed to himself when he saw what was on it. He thanked me with a hug, and I hugged his waist like a five-year-old.

He tucked the drawing safely inside his pocket and hugged me one last time, then they said goodbye and left me feeling like I was on cloud nine.

Later, when the other kids came home, I was sat up in my room as I usually would be, but not in the bad mood that I would usually be in. Celia popped her head in to check on me, and I smiled pleasantly. Jenny had told me that she was the only care worker who knew Tom's identity, though the others all knew that I was being visited for a possible adoption. She gave me a quick hug and left me listening to music and singing softly to myself as my mind whirled at the thought of my greatest dream coming true.


	6. Chapter 6

I saw Tom every other day after that, for the three weeks that we had to wait. Tom, being the famous actor that he is, couldn't visit me at Oak House, so Jenny had arranged for John to pick me up from the orphanage and drive me to whatever restaurant, park or cinema we were meeting Tom at.

The other kids constantly bombarded me with questions, and while some were simply curious as to why they hadn't met this guy (Jenny and I called him Mr. Hill when around anyone else), others were less kind.

'Why would anyone want to visit you? Fire-starter!' Rick, one of the older boys at Oak House had sneered at me when I sat reading in the garden one Wednesday, filling up the last half an hour before lunch, when John would arrive to take me out to eat with Tom. We had one week left to wait, so I had tried to ignore what Rick was saying, but he had continued to taunt me, laughing as he yanked my book out of my hands and whispered that nobody would ever want to visit me. I had snapped and launched myself at Rick, fists flying, and half an hour later I was sat in the passenger seat of John's car with a black eye and a split lip, staring at my reflection in the black-tinted windows and trying to cover it with concealer before we met up with Tom.

When we arrived at the restaurant, Tom was waiting inside at our table. John had steered me past families and business meetings to a booth near the back of the restaurant, and I slid in next to Tom on his right, greeting him with a hug on his left side so he wouldn't see the blossoming purple showing through the make up on my right eye. That had lasted about ten minutes before Tom announced that he needed the loo, and I slipped out of the booth so he could get out behind me.

He gave no sign that he had seen my bruise, but when he returned from the men's room and we sat back down, Tom stared intently at me, waiting for an explanation.

I looked down at my plate, pushing the food around with my fork, avoiding his gaze.

'One of the guys in the orphanage started on me, saying stuff about me. He wouldn't leave me alone; and he took my book, so I hit him.' I mumbled, ashamed that after what Tom had told me in the park, I still took those kinds of insults to heart. Tom frowned sympathetically, using a finger under my chin to turn my face so he could see the damage. I winced when his thumb caught my split lip, and he withdrew his hand.

'Maybe sometime soon this boy should meet a certain someone…' Tom murmured with a glint of humour in his eyes. I smiled and cocked my head to one side.

'And just exactly who would he be meeting?' I asked, playing along. Tom chuckled and took a sip of his wine. I sipped my own glass of red, a sneaky secret treat Tom had allowed me, to celebrate nearing the end of the three weeks.

'Well,' said Tom, beaming at me. 'When I come to get you on Saturday-' Tom began, but I cut him off.

'Sorry, wait, you're coming to get me? Not John? But the other kids will recognise you!' I said, though I was grinning at the thought of Tom himself coming to fetch me. He grinned and nodded, and I shrugged happily.

'Yeah, of course I'm coming to get you. Jenny phoned me earlier, she said I was allowed to tell you that Saturday is when our waiting period ends, so if it's okay with you, that will be the day that you can move out of Oak House and come live with me. And I was thinking that while I was there, I could have a chat with this boy.' Tom said, watching my grin get wider as he spoke. I never seemed to be able to frown for long when Tom was around.

I was extremely excited about moving to Tom's place, but also slightly freaked out. We had spoken about him adopting me before, but it all seemed a bit surreal, like a completely brilliant dream that would never really come true, but would be perfect while it lasted. Now, though, there was an actual date set for my entire life to change into the life I had fantasized about having, and I was a little scared.

I mean, Tom was the most genuine, sweet, funny guy I'd ever met, but me? I was almost the opposite. How would Tom deal with me when I was ill, or upset, or in trouble at school? Would he want to sit up and help with my homework after a long hard day of acting? Probably not. And what about when he's feeling ill, or tired? He wouldn't want a kid depending on him when he's not feeling 100 percent.

We sat and chatted about our plans for Saturday, and I happily accepted John and Tom's offer to help me pack up my things over the next two days, as Jenny had organised a camping trip for the other children, so that I could spend some time with my soon-to-be adopted Father. Tom told me that he had been working with some friends in his home, and that he's got a huge room set up for me, which I can furnish and paint as I like.

John, as usual, was the only one looking at the time, and he reluctantly announced that I had to be dropped back off at Oak House in twenty minutes. Tom and I both groaned, but Tom paid for our meal and we went out to John's car. I jumped in the backseat, expecting Tom to take the front seat next to John, but he slid in to the seat beside me, continuing our conversation easily, right up until we pulled in to the drive of Oak House. When John cut the engine, Tom reached over and gave me a quick goodbye hug, promising that he and John would arrive to help me pack by lunchtime tomorrow. I grinned and thanked them both for lunch, hugging John through the car window and running happily off around the side of the house and into the garden.


	7. Chapter 7

I got up early the next morning to begin packing up my clothes, leaving a few items unpacked for Friday and Saturday. I had just zipped up my battered old suitcase, when Jenny shouted up the stairs that Mr Hill had arrived, on account of the other children, who were still in their rooms getting their sleeping bags and pulling on their thickest jumpers, ready to camp. I rushed down the stairs to meet John, who said that Tom would be up to my room in a moment. I smiled and we walked up to my room, careful not to pass any of the others as they still sleepily shuffled about in their rooms. We made it to my room, giggling, and I began to carefully pull the photos and sketches off of the walls while Tom set about gathering books from my shelves, as well as the random places all over my room that I had piled them when the shelves overflowed.

I was carefully slipping my sketches into a large, flat folder when Tom snuck into the room and grabbed me up in a hug that lifted me off the ground. I laughed and hugged him back, and when he put me down, he told me to close my eyes. I did, and when Tom told me to open them, two new suitcases printed with union flags were lying on the bed next to me. I gasped and thanked Tom profusely, apologising for already having packed all of the clothes that I didn't keep in the wardrobe. Tom laughed and shrugged it off, and I let him take over packing away my posters and drawings while I set about moving my clothes from the tattered old black suitcase to one of the new ones. A few minutes later I zipped up the first suitcase and moved to the wardrobe, pulling out the few dresses I owned first and gently folding them into the second suitcase, following them with the rest of my jeans, jackets and novelty T-shirts. I packed all of my shoes into the old black suitcase and moved out of the way, so that Tom could take down the images plastered over the wardrobe door.

I was helping John stack my books into a box when Tom called me over. He lifted down an old box from the top shelf of the wardrobe and handed it to me. I gazed at the old shoe box reminiscently, and then looked up at Tom. Reading the question in my glance, Tom smiled and shook his head. He hadn't looked inside. Good. I put the shoe box into a plastic bag and stacked it on top of the two suitcases by the door. I glanced up, and saw Annie walking drowsily up the stairs towards us. I quickly hissed at Tom and John to hide, and Tom leapt into the wardrobe as John dove under the bed, scrunching his long legs up to hide them properly.

Annie reached the top of the stairs and I waved her into my room. She smiled and walked in, immediately taking up the job Tom had left in a hurry, pulling photos off of the wardrobe door. Luckily, I only put the pictures on the outer side of the door. She began talking cheerily, but we both felt a little sad at me leaving.

'So, you're really going this time then?' She asked, and I told her yes. She grinned at me as she tucked another sketch of Loki into the now quite bulky folder. She pulled off the last photo. It was the only photo on the wardrobe that wasn't of Loki. It was a photo of her and me at the local park, taken a year before. She smiled at it and passed it over to me. I grinned.

'Chris?' She asked, a little suspiciously. I looked up at her from my spot on the floor, sorting through my school books.

'Yeah?'

'Why won't you tell me who's adopting you? I mean, the only thing you told me about him is that he's really nice and his name is Mr Hill, and it seems like this is all going really quick. Usually, I'm the first person you tell, and you've been holding out on me. I can understand not telling Rick or Sean, after all the fights you've had, especially Rick, after yesterday, but why can't you tell me? I mean, am I ever going to meet this guy that's taking my best friend up to London before you go?' She questioned me, and I felt guilty for not sharing this with her, but Jenny told me not to tell anyone. I shrugged, non-committal, and Annie frowned.

'Sorry, Annie. I should have told you, I just… It's all just a bit unreal, you know?' I apologised, and she put an arm around me. She had grown in the years that I had known her, and now we were almost exactly the same height.

'I only ask because, well, I haven't had the chance to tell whoever this is that if I don't get at least one letter every week from my best friend, he will have me to answer to.' She joked, but I knew she really wanted me to stay in touch, and I promised her I would.

'Annie, you're my best friend, so I can trust you, right?' I said, and Annie nodded at me.

'Of course you can, silly.' She said, and I stood up, taking a deep breath. She watched me, confused.

'Okay then. If you want to give him your little message yourself, I can introduce you to Mr Hill, but you have to swear to me that you will keep it a secret.' I said in a flurry, and seeing my excitement, Annie nodded eagerly.

'When can I meet him?' She asked, and I pulled her up off the bed, walking over to grasp the handle of the wardrobe door, taking her hand in mine and closing the bedroom door as we went.

'How about now?' I said, and hoped that Tom and John had heard our conversation. They had, and Annie jumped as John wriggled out from under the bed. Her surprise turned to confusion.

'Um, Chris, is that Mr Hill?' She asked as John stood and dusted himself off. He grinned knowingly at me.

'No, I'm not… Mr Hill. I'm his friend.' John said, extending his arm and shaking Annie's hand. She knit her eyebrows in confusion and turned to me.

'So… where is Mr Hill?' She asked, and I bit my lip as I pulled open the wardrobe door and Tom Hiddleston stepped out into my bedroom.

'Oh. My. God. You. ARSE!' Annie whisper-shouted at me, wary of the other children, but punctuating every word with a hard smack on my arm. I let go of her hand and ducked round behind Tom, peeking out at her still angry expression as it turned to awe.

Tom chuckled and stepped to his side and putting an arm around my shoulders. I grinned guiltily ay Annie as she gaped at us. Tom put out a hand and she shook it wordlessly.

'Annie, this is Tom. He's Mr Hill.' I said, and her eyes snapped to mine, her face melting into an expression of joy as she rushed over and grabbed me in a bear hug, squealing quietly. I hugged her back, laughing as she bounced us up and down in her excitement. She stepped back and words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush.

'Oh my God Chris I totally get why you couldn't tell me now! How long has he been coming here without you telling me? He's adopting you! Oh my God my best friend is being adopted by Tom freaking Hiddleston, and I'm being left behind while she goes off to a five-star life in London with Loki but I don't even care because this is sooooo cool! I'm so jealous of you right now! Are you-' She gushed, until I clapped a hand over her mouth when her whisper grew to an over-excited shout.

Tom and John stood by, watching as I calmed Annie down. She was breathing quickly, eyes bright until her face suddenly turned serious, and she spun around to face Tom.

'You had better make sure that she writes to me every week, Lok- I mean, Mr Hiddleston, because if I go too long without a letter from my best mate, you'll be in big trouble. Okay?' She said, her steady, serious voice gradually morphing back to excitement as she spoke. Tom smiled and nodded seriously.

'I promise you, Annie, I'll make sure that Chris writes to you every week, and you two can call each other whenever. I don't want to get in trouble with either of you.' He said, and John and I shared a humorous glance.

A few minutes later, and Annie and I were chatting comfortably, though she still stared at Tom like he was a mirage. Jenny came to my door and pushed it open, frowning at me when she saw Annie laughing with Tom. I shrugged at her, and she rolled her eyes, but said nothing. She called Annie to come downstairs, as everyone was leaving for their camping trip, and Annie hugged me and shook hands with Tom and John before promising to keep our secret and skipping off to join the others.

We finished packing my clothes and books, and as I emptied my desk, John went downstairs to make tea for us all. I stacked my sketchpads up in two piles and dropped them into a large box, surprised by the amount of room they took up. Tom had found my old gameboy advance and was playing Pokémon Gold. I threw a cushion at him where he sat on the floor with his back against the bed, and he put down the console and threw the cushion back.

When John returned ten minutes later with a tray of tea and biscuits, I was sat cross-legged on a cushion on Tom's stomach in the middle of the floor, laughing at him as I played Pokémon while he chuckled on the floor. John just shrugged and set down the tea tray on my desk, and I stood up, offering Tom a hand and pulling him up too. We drank the tea in comfort and chatted about Saturday.

It took us the rest of the day to finish packing my room, and Tom and John left at around half past eight that evening, on account of John having a date with some girl called Kate. I ate the fish fingers and veg dinner that I helped Jenny to make, and we sat up late together, watching a film as we usually did when I was left behind. She let me choose the film, and I chose the same film as always. The Avengers. We watched it in companionable silence, and I was comfortably curled into Jenny's side with my head resting on her shoulder as the two of us dozed off and the credits rolled.


	8. Chapter 8

I woke up on Saturday morning in my favourite Iron Man PJs on the lumpy sofa, the blanket Jenny and I had curled up in last night draped over me. I yawned and stretched, but seeing the light only just hitting the window, I decided it was too early to be awake just yet. I snuggled down into the blanket and let sleep wash over me with a contented sigh.

I woke a couple hours later at ten to the noisy return of the other kids, with an exhausted Celia, Alex and James dragging tents behind them, bringing up the rear. I sat up on the sofa and wrapped the blanket around me, walking over to the door and into the hallway, greeting everyone with an overly cheery grin and dashing up the stairs, blanket flying like a cape, to get ready for 12:00, when my leaving party would begin and I would introduce my adoptive father to the orphanage's residents.

I pulled on the black skinny jeans and neon purple converse I had left out for the day, along with the Loki shirt I first met Tom in. I brushed and straightened my hair, and decided against make-up, as chances are, Annie and I would cry at some point today. I brushed my teeth and double checked my room for anything unpacked, tucking my pyjamas into the top of one of my new suitcases.

Annie and I wasted time before twelve by kicking around a football in the garden, while everybody else was busy putting out food or changing clothes for the occasion. I tried not to think of my other five leaving parties.  
As half past eleven came and went, I grew steadily more sure that I was dreaming the whole thing, that it was all too fantastic to really be happening, but when Jenny called Annie inside with everyone else to wait in the living room and a black car pulled up at the front of the house, Jenny and I walked round to meet Tom (John was out to lunch with Kate, so it was just him) and I could feel the realness of it all making me jumpy with anticipation.

Tom stepped out of the car and kissed Jenny's cheek in a casual greeting, then swung me up into a hug. I hugged him back, but I was a little nervous of him meeting the others, so he quietly put an arm around my shoulders and we walked into the house. Jenny took Tom into the office quickly, so I stepped into the living room and was met with cries of 'Speech, speech!' I blushed and addressed the room in a timid voice.

'Um, I know there have been a few leaving parties for me, but I want this to be my very last one. I love all of you, especially Annie, and I promise to write. I'm moving to London with my new father, and um, I guess you're all going to want to meet him before I go away for good.' I said, hearing Tom and Jenny waiting in the hallway. The adults and kids in the room nodded equally eagerly, so I quickly stepped out into the hall and took Tom's hand as Jenny slipped past me to wait in the room with the others.

I was pink and breathing quickly from nerves, and Tom gave my slightly sweaty hand a reassuring squeeze as I pushed open the door and we stepped inside.

I stared at the floor, still holding Tom's hand as the room was filled with gasps and mutterings of 'No way. She's lying' From Rick and Sean at the back of the room, and giggles from Annie and Jenny, who stood together looking immensely proud of me.

Then Celia and James and a few of the kids broke into disbelieving laughter, and I relaxed a little and looked up at Tom, who smiled easily at me. James stepped forwards and offered Tom a hand.

'Mr Hill, I presume? Lovely to meet you.' James laughed as they shook hands, and Tom returned the shake and the laugh, before quickly addressing the crowded room.

'Hello everyone. I'm afraid I'm not called Mr Hill, but I am adopting Chris here, so sorry for the secret, and it's lovely to finally meet all of you.' He said brightly, and the room filled with laughs and chatter and the party got underway.

With all the people in the room, there was barely space to move, so I helped Alex move the folding food tables outside and the party expanded into the garden as peckish people followed the snacks out onto the grass. Tom got caught up in a hysteric conversation with Meg and Sam, twins who adored all things Marvel, and so I let go of his hand and found Annie in the garden, and we grabbed the least deflated football and picked up where we left off in our earlier kick about, laughing at the reactions Tom received.

Occasionally someone would congratulate me or run over for a hug and a quick chat, but Tom held most of the attention, and I was happy to let him be the centre of focus, so Annie and I played on the grass while poor Tom was bombarded with questions. Eventually people settled down and got used to his presence, and the crowd dissipated into the living room, where music played, or out onto the grass to bathe in the temporary sun, and Tom was left chatting with James and Celia.

Annie and I stopped kicking the ball and sat down on the grass, leaning against a tree together in happy quiet. We stayed that way for a few minutes before Annie grabbed my hand and set off running to the bottom of the garden. We ran right down to my special hiding place, the spot where I met Tom, and she pushed me through the hedge.

I stumbled out on the other side to see that Annie had setup our own private little tea party, with cakes and crisps she had pilfered from the kitchen, along with a bottle of lemonade and two glasses. I thanked her with a hug and we tucked in to our meal for a while, laughing and reminiscing happily.

Suddenly, the bushes rustled and Rick and Sean burst through the hedge, ripping my secret little gap in the leaves into a gaping, obvious hole. I frowned, but I was too buoyed up by happiness to do more than frown. Sean walked over to Annie and grabbed her by the arms, yanking her over to the edge of the small space we stood in and putting a hand over her mouth. I jumped up to grab her, but Rick caught me with a fist in the stomach and I doubled up, winded.

I took a few deep breaths and straightened, looking Rick in the eye. He looked so angry with me, and I wondered what I had done to piss him off this time. I rubbed my stomach and stood staring at Rick. I had never seen him this mad at me, though we had certainly come to blows before over small things.

'What have I done this time?' I asked in a bored voice, a little miffed at him for ruining my mood. He gritted his teeth and balled his fists, and I found my own fingers curling into fists without me thinking about it.

'You don't deserve it.' He spat, and I cocked my head to the side, wondering what he meant, though I had a bad feeling that I already knew.

'What don't I deserve? Other than a punch to the stomach, of course.' I said, lightly, still in a bored tone of voice. Rick smiled meanly.

'No, you deserved that; you always deserve a punch in the stomach. You don't deserve THAT.' Rick said, waving a hand behind him at the laughter and music coming from the top of the garden. I felt my spirits sink. I was right, I knew what he thought I didn't deserve, and to a small extent, I agreed with him. I fought to keep my face detached, calm. My eyes prickled a little.

'You don't deserve to be adopted, to move out of boring old Cornwall, let alone with someone like him. Does he know you're a killer?' Rick sneered, and I set my jaw, determined not to let him get to me. I flinched at the word 'killer', and my cover-up slipped a little. Rick grinned again.

'Does he know you set that fire? You did, didn't you? Killer.' Rick mocked me, and suddenly his fist connected with my chin. My head snapped back, and I bit my tongue, but I pushed away the stinging pain, seeing Annie wriggling against Sean in fright. I slowly turned to face Annie, holding out a hand, telling her to calm down. As I walked towards her, Rick lashed out again and hit a glancing blow to my cheek and nose, which began to drip blood in a slow, steady stream. He swung again and I ducked, and Rick overbalanced himself and slipped on the grass, landing face down. I put a foot on his wrist, warning him not to get up again. I glared at Sean, who let Annie go and jogged off, leaving Rick with me as I told Annie to sit down, thanking her for the tissue she passed me from one of the many packs she always carries.

I held the tissue to my bleeding nose, noting the split in my lip had opened up again. Rick struggled on the floor and I moved my foot long enough for him to roll onto his back, then pressing the same foot into his stomach as he stared furiously up at me.

'You know, you're probably right. I don't deserve to be adopted by Tom, of all people, but he's such an amazing person that I doubt anyone deserves that, and I'm not going to turn the opportunity down just because an asshole like you said so.' I said calmly, trying to hold myself together.  
'But, Rick, you're also very, very wrong. I don't know what happened to start that fire, whether it was me or not, but I can't dwell on that forever, so I'm going to tell you this once. Leave. Me. Alone. And if you ever touch Annie again, I will come back from London, and I will beat the crap out of you.' I hissed, pressing my foot into his gut. He groaned loudly, and I let him up, practically growling as he rushed out of the bushes. I waited for him to get out of earshot before I slumped onto the floor and let the tears roll, dabbing at the blood on my face and pinching the bridge of my now gushing nose.

Annie silently handed me a second tissue, and I dropped the first one, which was mostly red, on the grass and replaced it with the new one. Annie quietly stood up, patting my shoulder, and crept away, muttering about making an excuse for me to hide here for a moment. I thanked her and she jogged off to the top of the garden.

A few minutes later, I leaned back against a tree with my eyes closed and the tissue still pressed to my nose, though the blood was starting to slow down so a thin trickle. The bushes rustled again, and this time, I opened my eyes to see John peering cautiously through the gap. Seeing me, he quickly stepped through and sat beside me. I wondered when he had arrived, but my nose hurt too much so I closed my eyes again and decided I didn't care. He brushed my hair out of my face and leaned against him as he pulled out a pack of tissues – Annie's, I noted. So she had run off to fetch John, knowing I wouldn't like Tom to see me bloody and bruised – and began to clean the blood and away from under my nose and on my chin. I winced when he brushed over my split lip, and he muttered an apology. I sighed and wiped my eyes on my sleeve as he spoke quietly to me.

'Annie told me what happened. She figured you might like some help getting cleaned up before Tom spots you?' I nodded gratefully and he continued talking as he dabbed at my face.

'I'm proud of you, kid. You didn't fight back, that's good. From what you've told us, a month ago you would have beaten him senseless, and for what it's worth, if he touches you again, I'll do it for you.' He said, an unexpectedly protective tone creeping into his voice. I smiled and winced as the action hurt my lip, and John tutted. He removed the last smudge of blood, and pulled a concealer stick from his pocket, shrugging at my raised eyebrows.

'Annie gave it to me. I used to be Tom's make-up artist, so I figured I could hide that shiner starting up on your chin pretty well. Tip your head back a bit, make it less obvious that you were, uh, crying.' He said, expertly hiding the evidence of my fight and its after-effects.

'There.' He said, tilting my head in different directions to view his work. Satisfied that I looked un-punched, he took my hand and we stood and walked out through the hedge, John telling me a silly joke to make me laugh as we stepped back out into the sun. I spotted Sean and Rick a few metres away from the party, arguing in hisses, and my smile grew wider.

'So when did you get here then?' I asked, and John smiled cheekily at me.

'Twenty minutes ago. I told Tom I had a date because I wanted to go buy you a little something.' He said in a stage-whisper, pulling out a little box from his pocket. He handed it to me and I opened it, finding a silver necklace inside, with a small, clear green gem hanging in a silver birdcage as the pendant.

'The stone is peridot, apparently. The woman in the shop said it 'counteracts negativity'. Judging by what happened back there, I guess you could use it.' John said, stopping our walk to do the clasp around my neck. I thanked him with a tight hug, and he returned it with a laugh.

Tom spotted us walking up the garden a came to meet us halfway, grinning at me. Tom handed John his glass of water and quickly hugged me, whispering to me that we had on hour before we needed to leave. I nodded and leaned into the hug, and Tom chuckled. He let go of the hug, but put an arm around me, and took his glass back from John as we walked towards the tables of food. I picked at a bowl of pretzels and received hugs from Alex, Jenny James and Celia, each of them promising to write me and making me promise to write them in return.

A few moments later, Alex turned off the music and called everyone over. I looked up in surprise to see Celia and James coming out of the living room with a big square cake with the words 'Good Luck Chris!' written in purple icing that rivalled the colour of my shoes, and gold, glittery edible stars decorating the cake. I thanked them all and we dug in, and I relished the taste of jam, cream, icing and fluffy sponge cake in my mouth.

Once everyone was settled comfortably on folding chairs or soft spots of grass, munching on cake and crisps, Tom and I sat on the grass his long legs stretched out in front of him, mine crossed as I leaned my back a tree trunk. Tom patted me on the knee and tapped his watch, and we stood up. Tom nodded at John, and he disappeared inside the house.

'Everyone! Today has been so lovely, and we thank you all, but I'm afraid it's time we were off, we have to get to the airport, so I think Chris would like to say her goodbyes.' Said Tom, giving my shoulder a squeeze and telling me in an undertone that he and John would put my things in their cars and he would fetch me in five minutes. I nodded, and he squeezed my shoulder again before disappearing the way John had.

I moved through the group, hugging and kissing the people, happy tears beginning to spill as each person told me how they would miss me and made me promise to call, with the exception of Rick, who pointedly ignored me while Sean stepped forward and grabbed me in a sudden hug, muttering into my shoulder that he was sorry, he shouldn't have let Rick hit me. I hugged him back, tears gently spilling onto my cheeks, and made him promise to look out for Annie. He promised, and I gave him one last squeeze before I stepped back and saw Tom walking toward me. I took the hand he held out to me, the group followed us out of the garden to the car, and I waved a final goodbye to everyone as I got in the front with Tom and he pulled away.


	9. Chapter 9

In the car and on the plane from Cornwall to Heathrow, I was quiet, missing Annie and my friends at the orphanage already. Tom didn't press me for conversation in the car, but as we flew to Heathrow, Tom nudged me gently.

'Listen, Chris, there's going to be a lot of people wanting photos and interviews and stuff from us when we land.' I stiffened visibly, and Tom gripped my arm reassuringly.

'It's just photos, Chris, we don't have to talk to them, but somehow it got out that I was adopting you, and well, it's big news to them. We'll just walk past as quick as we can, okay? No problem, right?' Tom told me, his voice low and calming. I still felt tense about there being cameras waiting for us, but I guessed I should have expected it. It's not like some guy called Mr Hill was really adopting me anyway.

Tom kept his large, warm hand on my arm, comforting me. I felt bad for him, he always seemed to be comforting me, and it wasn't his fault I hated cameras.

'Chris? You're really quiet, what's wrong?' He asked me quietly, and I explained to him that I hated cameras and the press. I told him that back when I was nine, and the fire had just happened, I had the press cropping up all over the place, snapping photos and yelling questions. Then one journalist mis-quoted someone, and the whole rumour of my having started the fire began. Because of those photos and questions and incorrect quotes, I lost all my friends, their parents not wanting them to play with a 'fire-starter'. It had grown and mutated in the media until I started to think that the fire really was my fault, and the constant photos made me paranoid of going outside. I got over it, mostly, and I still saw a therapist once a month about it, though it would be a different, London-based therapist now. Tom listened without interrupting, sympathy filling his eyes as I talked. He squeezed my arm, and I shrugged.

'I just don't like photos of me. Please don't look at me like I'm an abandoned puppy, I'm over it, mostly. I can get through the press, just don't let go of my hand.' I asked him, and he promised not to let go.

The air hostess woke Tom and me with the announcement of our arrival. We quickly unclipped our seatbelts and grabbed our carry-ons from the shelf above our heads. As the plane slowly emptied and we drew near the front, Tom slipped my arms into his leather jacket. He had worn a jumper on the plane, but all I had was my Loki tee. I smiled gratefully, and he grabbed my hand tightly as we reached the steps leading down from the plane, and a hundred cameras started flashing.

I tensed up, but Tom tugged gently on my hand, and I walked stiffly off the plane and into the gathering crowd of journalists, photographers and hysterical Hiddleston fans that desperately shouted for Tom to notice them. Tom smiled and waved, nudging me gently with his elbow. I tentatively raised a hand and gave it a tiny wave. Tom squeezed my hand, and I smiled a little. We pushed through the crowd, John appearing by my side and taking my other hand. I looked up with a thankful glance as he blocked most of the photographer's views of me. He grinned easily in return as we made it though the crowd to where a black car was waiting.

Tom told me that my luggage was all taken straight to his place for us, so we sat back in the car and I tried to cover my shivering. I hated photographers and journalists, and that crowd was the biggest I have ever dealt with. The encounter left me shaking with my pent-up urge to turn and run until they were simple blips in the distance.

Even now, in the car, Tom still kept my hand loosely in his, so he felt me trembling and drew me in close. He put his chin on top of my head and wrapped his arms around me, and I snuggled into his chest, closing my eyes and trying to control the shudders.


	10. Chapter 10

The sky was just beginning to darken when we pulled up outside Tom's home, I was calmed and ready to go inside and unpack. It was still a Saturday night, and when Tom unlocked the door and we stepped inside, my bags had all been brought in and stacked in the hallway. I was speechless. I don't know what I had been expecting, but the… normality of the place was certainly not it. There were family photos hung on the walls and the whole place was painted in calm blues. Tom showed me the huge living room first, with its two dark blue material sofas and the one lighter blue armchair in the corner. Bookshelves covered four feet of the two walls that met behind the light chair, making a miniature library almost in the shape of an upright, open book. I wandered around the room, taking in my new home. There was a large fire place set into the wall, and the sofas were at diagonal angles to face the telly in the opposite corner to the books, while still being set around the fire. The carpet was soft and thick, and photos of Tom and his sisters perched on the mantelpiece. I looked them over with a small feeling of dread in my stomach. I would meet them soon. I bushed the thought away, I would think about that later, once I'm settled.

The kitchen was equally huge and stylish, a massive fridge-freezer and granite worktops. And island in the middle served as a dining table, with four high stools set around it. There was a laundry room and a bathroom on that floor as well, which Tom quickly showed me before we made our way upstairs. First he showed me the study, telling me I would probably use it more than he would, for schoolwork and such like. Next he showed me the bigger upstairs bathroom and his neat, comfortable bedroom.

We left his room, and Tom rubbed his hands together like a magician readying himself for a special trick. The door next to his bedroom led to my new room, and he let me open the door and peek inside.

It was vast. A gorgeous four-poster bed was set against the middle of on wall, with dark purple, semi-transparent curtains drawn back, that could hang down and enclose the bed in a silken box. A tall oak wardrobe stood to the left of the bed, a dresser with a large mirror on top and a velvet-seated chair to the right. The walls were painted a pale lilac colour, and bookshelves lined one corner just like in the living room, where a cushy armchair and footstool sat, with a small side table next to the chair supporting a simple lamp. I walked around the room, taking in all its beautiful furnishings, and found a door in the wall to the right of the bed that led to my very own en suite bathroom, with a deep bathtub, walking shower, sink toilet and small airing cupboard set into the wall.  
I walked back out of the en suite to find Tom still stood smiling in the doorway. I flung myself at him and hugged him tight, thanking him profusely for everything, telling him it was beautiful, perfect, and wonderful. He laughed and hugged me back; telling me John had gone home to get some sleep.

Tom ordered pizza for us and helped me carry my bags up to my room, and I happily accepted his offer to help me unpack. The pizza came and we ate it as Tom put my books up on the shelves and I put my clothes away into the wardrobe, occasionally dropping clothes into a small pile on the floor. Tom asked me what the pile was, and I told him that it was clothes I wanted to give to charity. They were all clothes that Celia had bought me, leggings and beaded tops and other items I would never wear. He chuckled and put them into a plastic bag, ready to give away tomorrow.

When I was nearly completely unpacked, Tom picked up the last bag and pulled out of it the shoe box he had found in my wardrobe. He handed it wordlessly to me, and I bit my lip, setting the box on the bed and sitting cross-legged behind it, asking Tom to sit with me. He sat on the end of my bed, folding one leg under him and dangling the other over the edge of the bed. I pushed the box to him and he opened it slowly, mouth falling a tiny bit open as he took in what was inside.

'Are these all for me?' He asked; a little confused. I tilted my head to one side and shrugged.

'Um, kind of.' I said, unsure how to explain.

'They were meant for you, but not, if that makes sense?' I said, and he raised an eyebrow at me.

He reached into the box and pulled out several envelopes, all the same, all with 'Dear Mr Hiddleston' written in varying degrees of childish handwriting. I reached over and took one, twirling it between my fingers.

'Um, don't think me weird, but I used to write to you. I never sent them, but if someone or something, good or bad, had affected me, I wrote it down in a letter to you. It was my way of… Not exploding. I wrote it down, and imagined what you would say to me when you read it. Like, I wrote to you quite a few times about getting into fights, and I always heard your voice in my head telling me that haters never win. 'Negative energy always costs in the end' you'd tell me. I just used it to keep control while I was in therapy and being bullied and stuff. I never expected you to see them.' I said, trying hard not to sound too barmy. Tom's mouth hung slightly open as I spoke, and surprise mixed with another emotion on his face, but I couldn't tell what it was. He looked at the letters in his hand and the several hundred more in the box. I bit my lip. He thought I was mental, surely.

But then Tom tucked the letters back into the box, gently taking the one from my hand and placing it at the top, and shut the lid. Then he moved the box onto the floor and reached out for me, so I scooted down the bed and sat next to him. He put an arm around me and held me close, and I looked up at him.

'Chris, you're not weird. I'm honoured that you wrote to me when you were happy or sad or upset. I'm glad that I could have helped you, even though I wasn't there.' Tom murmured, smiling warmly. I smirked at the 'not weird' bit and he gave me a gentle poke in the ribs, making me giggle. I leaned my head into the crook where his neck joined his shoulder, a little nervous about voicing the question in my head.

'I don't mind, if you want to read them. It's easier to let you read what I wrote to you instead of explaining every time I flinch or freak out at something, or find something silly oddly funny. It's up to you, though, you don't have to. Some of them I wrote way back when I was nine, right after the fire. Just… If you do read them, please don't do what other people did when I told them about me. Please don't give me those awful sympathizing-with-the-orphan looks, I can't take it when people do that.' I mumbled quickly, getting the words out and closing my eyes, hiding my face in his chest and twisting my hands together nervously.

Tom was quiet for a moment, before he put one large hand over my two uneasily entwined ones. He rested his cheek on my hair, and breathed a calm reply.

'I don't want to invade your privacy, but I would like to know. You're my daughter now, and I want to be able to help with stuff, like with the press earlier. If this is how you want to do it, I'm glad you feel you can trust me to read them. I promise not to give you those pitiful looks, too. But is it okay for me to ask you about things, if something doesn't make sense, or I want to understand better? You have the full right to say no, and I won't pry. I just want to get to know all this properly.' Tom spoke into my hair, and I let out the breath I didn't know I had been holding. I nodded into his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of my head and gave me a squeeze, before pulling away and standing up.

He pointed to his watch, and I realized that the time had completely washed over us, and it was twenty past eleven. I suddenly felt tired, and a yawn escaped me, which made Tom giggle.

'What?' I asked, rubbing my eyes to get rid of the water that always fills them when I yawn. Tom grinned.

'You squeak when you yawn. Right at the end, just a little squeak, like a baby dinosaur.' He chuckled, and I threw a pillow at him.

'I do not!' I said, but he caught the pillow and threw it back, laughing now. It hit me on the shoulder, and I bit my lip, trying not to laugh with him. His laugh was so infectious, it was almost impossible not to giggle with him. He moved to the top of the bed and pulled back the blanket, and I reluctantly climbed into the bed, curling into a ball as I normally did. He dropped the covers down over me, and I wriggled about a bit, getting comfortable.

'Tomorrow, we're going out shopping with a friend of mine, is that okay?' He asked, and I nodded.

'Which friend?' I asked, but he avoided the question with a cheeky grin. He leaned down and kissed my hair, and my heart swelled. I felt at home. I felt loved and wanted and at home, because nobody ever did that until now. I closed my eyes and gave a contented sigh as Tom whispered into my hair.

'It's a surprise.'

'I don't like surprises.' I mumbled sleepily, and his chuckle told me he knew I was lying.

'You'll like this one, I promise.' He said. I snuggled my face deeper into the soft pillow as he scooped up the box of letters from the floor and headed to the door. He flicked off the light and pulled the door most of the way closed, leaving it open just an inch. Enough to be able to hear me if I would need him, but not enough that the soft music he set playing in his room would be so loud that it would bother me. I soon fell asleep to the slow rhythm of the music that gently seeped into my room.


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning, I had a moment of utter panic when I rolled over and off the edge of the bed, hitting the floor with a loud crash. It took me a few seconds to remember where I was, and by the time I had remembered the events of yesterday and that I was slumped in a heap of blankets on the floor of my new bedroom, Tom was knocking on my door.

'Chris? You okay?' He said, and I struggled to free myself from the blankets, but found them trapped beneath me.

'Yeah, I'm fine. Um, could you give me a hand?' I called timidly, and Tom pushed the door open, wearing dark green pyjama bottoms, but no shirt. He burst out laughing seconds later, catching sight of me, wrapped tightly in a kind of bedsheet-cuccoon, struggling to free myself.

A few moments later, he was across the room and lifting me and the blankets off the floor, freeing me from the blankets and setting me down on the bed, both of us giggling.

'Uhm, sorry about that, I dunno how I got so tangled up!' I said through my giggles, and Tom sat down next to me and leaned back so he was lying flat across the mattress, still chuckling slightly.

'Not a problem.' Tom said, reaching up from where he lay to ruffle my bed-messy hair. Then I realized. I had awful bed-hair, and probably morning breath. I groaned and tried to stand up on the bed so I could jump off the other side and run to the bathroom to fix it, but my foot got tangled in the sheets and I fell sideways, landing on my stomach next to Tom, who was laughing out loud.

I laughed with him as he untangled my foot and got up to leave and let me get dressed. He glanced at my novelty Iron Man alarm clock. It was 9:20 am. He ruffled his equally messy bed-hair and told me we had to be ready to leave to meet his friend by quarter past ten. I gave him the thumbs-up from my en suite, my mouth full with toothbrush and toothpaste.

Half an hour later, I pulled a fluffy white towel around myself as I exited my shower feeling utterly blissed out, having toyed around with the shower massager. I brushed through my damp hair as I walked through to my bedroom, setting the brush on the dresser and rifling through the wardrobe. I wanted to dress nicer than my usual jeans and tee combo. Today was the first time I would meet any of Tom's friends other than John, and I didn't want to embarrass him. I found my only pair of dark blue skinny jeans that was free of paint marks, and a dark blue vest top with a paler blue button up tailored shirt over the top. I pulled on my leather jacket over the top and laced my purple converse onto my feet.

I applied a concealer stick to the bruise on my face that was, thankfully, beginning to fade, and brushed a little mascara onto my lashes, adding a little black eyeliner, on the bottoms of my eyes only.

The sun shone brightly through my window, so I pulled my favourite mirrored aviators from a drawer in my dresser and hooked them into the front of my shirt. Tom knocked politely on my door, and I answered him quickly, pulling open the door with a shy 'What do you think?.

He looked me critically up and down, and his face broke into an easy grin. My own face, which had sunk into concerned self-consciousness, relaxed and he put an arm around my shoulders, pulling the door shut with his other hand and tugging me toward the stairs.

We had tea and toast in the kitchen, and I showed off my culinary skills by only slightly burning the toast, and hiding it with large amounts of strawberry jam. Tom ate the meal with gusto, not getting a single crumb on his grey v-neck tee, or spilling jam on his light blue jeans. When we had both eaten our fill, and Tom sat licking jam off of his sticky fingers, I gathered up the plates and cutlery and crossed to the dishwasher, pulling out the bottom rack and loading the crockery into it.

'You don't have to do that, Chris.' Tom said from his seat at the table, wiping his hands on a tissue. I shrugged.

'I want to do it. I can't let you do everything for me, I have to do my bit too, or else it's not fair.' I said simply. Suddenly Tom was behind me, a hand on my shoulder, turning me to face him. He took the last plate out of my hands and put it in the machine, sliding the rack back into its place and closing the dishwasher door.

'You made breakfast.' He said, smiling.

'And it was lovely, thank you.' He added, making me smile too.

'It was just toast. And I burned it. I hid it with jam. But you're welcome anyway.' I said, biting my lip mischievously. He laughed, giving my shoulder a gentle shove, pushing me in the direction of the hallway.

'Time to go, you devious toast-burner.' He said, and I raced him to the coat rack, where his black jacket hung in the hall, grabbing it and tossing it to him as he drew near. He caught it easily and slipped it on, and we left the house and went out to his car.

In the car ride to meet the mysterious friend, Tom was infuriatingly good at not giving away their identity.

'Is it a he or a she?' I asked him.

'He's a guy.' He replied, his grin crinkling the corners of his eyes as he enjoyed watching me try to work out who we were meeting.

'Um, have I seen him before?'

'Probably.'

'Does he work on films?'

'He works on them, yeah.'

'On or off-camera?'

'He works around cameras.'

'Hey, Cheater! That doesn't answer my question.'

'It doesn't have to.' A sly chuckle makes me grin despite my annoyance.

'Okay then, has he worked on a film with you?'

'Yes, we've worked together.'

'Lucky guy, I'm jealous. I wish I could be in a film one day.'

Tom raised an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged.

'I like the way it all works. You get to be someone else, and then you get to see thousands of people enjoying watching you do something you enjoy. I want that.' I said, fiddling with the car stereo. I found my favourite station and started bobbing my head in time with the music, one of my favourite songs playing. I looked back over at Tom, and giggled. He was bobbing with me, and mouthing the words. He grinned as the chorus hit, and together we sang, and his voice matched the song perfectly as he sang, so I dropped my voice to just above a whisper and sang the harmony to myself, knowing I was quiet enough that he wouldn't hear me.

The song ended just as we pulled in to an unfamiliar car park, and Tom waited for the final note of the song to fade before turning off the engine and opening his door. I got out with him, looking around, as though I expected his mysterious friend to suddenly materialize out of nowhere.

Tom steered me with a hand on my shoulder, guiding me to a cute little café, with cushioned seats next to knee high tables. Tom ordered himself a cup of tea, while I just asked for water, and we chose a nice table by the window, sipping our drinks while I scanned the faces in the restaurant.

Tom distracted me from my search, nudging my leg under the table with his foot. I looked over at him as he took a sip of tea, and then very pointedly looked at the window. I followed his gaze, and my jaw dropped.


	12. Chapter 12

We finished our drinks and quickly stepped outside, where, to my utter delight, Chris Hemsworth stood in a casual tee and jeans, a light grey scarf around his neck and a leather jacket similar to mine. His blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he wore a dark pair of sunglasses. I stopped in my tracks when he looked up and grinned widely at Tom, bringing him into his muscly arms for a tight, brotherly hug. Tom laughed as they embraced, slapping Hemsworth's back and asking him how he was.

I watched them embrace so casually with a feeling of awe. My idol and adopted father stood in a London street with his arms wrapped around the God of Thunder, and I stood a few feet away with my mouth hanging open and my arms dangling limply at my sides, as opposed to three seconds ago, when my hand had sat in the crook of Tom's elbow.

They broke apart, and I suddenly remembered to breathe as Tom reached out a hand to me and I stepped shyly forward. He took my hand and tugged me in front of him, placing his hands on my shoulders as he introduced me to his friend.

'Chris, this is my adopted daughter, uh, Chris.' He said, giving a slight smirk at our matching names. Actor Chris grinned down at me and put out a hand for me to shake. I shook myself out of the frozen state I had fallen into and took his hand, feeling him squeeze as we shook. I smiled a little, and Tom gripped my shoulders tightly for a second, letting me know not to be nervous, he was there with me.

'Great to meet you, Tom's told me loads about you.' The Aussie man said, and I flushed a delicate pink and looked over my shoulder at Tom, who gave me a look that said 'of course I told him about you'. I gave him a small smile, touched that he had been telling people about me.

'Uhm, it's really great to meet you too, I mean, I've seen you before, but only in films, but everyone's seen the Avengers, you were all so amazing. You're a really great actor, Mr Hemsworth.' I rambled, my eyes lowered to the floor as I spoke, hiding the pink in my cheeks. Chris chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled a little in his chest, and made me feel suddenly more confident. I looked up at him, and he was smiling and at ease.

'Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it.' He said. Then Tom stepped in, leaving one arm around my shoulders, he moved to stand next to me.

'So, shall we get going then? We have some shopping to do, and I think Chris and I should get off the street, people are starting to stare.' He said, and I looked around to see several teens and adults staring unashamedly at the three of us. Well, the two of them, anyway. We moved off, strolling up the street and into a shop that Chris pointed out.

Inside, we messed around, trying on ridiculous sunglasses and oversized hats before we began to actually shop. It turned out that Chris and Tom both needed new gym clothes and some fancy clothes for an up-coming avengers premiere. Tom handed me a few notes and told me to pick out anything that I found that I wanted. He also said that he would buy me some fancy clothes too, but that I should shop for myself for a little while first and pick what I wanted. I assumed the fancy clothes was just so that I wouldn't feel left out, but I didn't see the point in wasting Tom's money, so I wandered around and picked out some dark purple skinny jeans, some novelty Kermit the frog socks, a grey beanie hat and a few novelty shirts, including a Thor shirt with our shopping buddy's face on it.

I also quickly disappeared into the underwear section and picked up a few bras, choosing nice ones instead of my usual cheap, dull, boring ones. I paid and carried my bags over to Chris and Tom, who were rifling through racks of suits, shirts, waistcoats and ties. I sat down on one of the round, squashy seats dotted around the store and watched as Tom chose some dark shirts and Chris asked my opinion on which colour tie suited him best. I told him to get the deep scarlet one, (to match Thor's cape) and a royal blue that matched the flecks in his eyes. Once they had both bought a new suit each, Tom buying himself a waistcoat as well, and both had new ties stowed away in their shopping bags, they turned to me.

'Have you chosen something you like?' Asked Chris, and I shrugged, looking behind me at the women's formal dress section.

'I don't really need a fancy dress; I don't want to waste money on one I won't wear.' I said, and they shared a glance that made me feel they were plotting something.

'Actually, Sweetie, you will need one. You're coming with me to the premiere.' Tom said with an impish look on his face. My eyebrows raised in surprise.

'Why? I didn't think families went to those with you? Not that I don't want to, I'd absolutely love to go with you, but I didn't think it was allowed?' I asked, and it was Tom's turn to shrug.

'It's allowed, but people tend to shy away from the red carpet a bit. I figured a future actress such as you would be able to handle it.' He said, and I grinned and hugged him round the middle.

'I take it this means you'll be in need of a dress after all?' Chris asked, and my smile dropped a little.

'You two can help me choose, I have no idea what I should wear. I never really had a reason to wear fancy clothes back in Cornwall.' I said, and they laughed and each grabbed one of my hands, and we spent the next hour and a half shuffling through row upon row of dresses.

Eventually we (mostly Tom and Chris) had picked out seven dresses that I was to try. I took them into the dressing room and pulled the first one on. It was a dark blue, knee length, floaty dress with the skirt cut into layers that fluffed out a little when I walked. The waist was quite tight, and gave me nice curves, and the neckline fell in the shape of a V that wasn't too low. The sleeves were floaty like the skirt and they were quite short so they fell just over my shoulders. I stepped out into the room and was met with approving nods from both men.

Grinning, I stepped back behind the changing room curtain and tried on the other six dresses, each as beautiful as the first. Tom and Chris nodded and smiled for each, but at the end when I changed back into my clothes, they agreed for me that the blue dress looked best on me, so we ditched the others and bought the first dress.

We carried our bags into another café and sat down to have lunch in a secluded spot at the back, after Tom charmed the waitress into giving us a private spot, away from inquisitive eyes.

We finished our drinks and quickly stepped outside, where, to my utter delight, Chris Hemsworth stood in a casual tee and jeans, a light grey scarf around his neck and a leather jacket similar to mine. His blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he wore a dark pair of sunglasses. I stopped in my tracks when he looked up and grinned widely at Tom, bringing him into his muscly arms for a tight, brotherly hug. Tom laughed as they embraced, slapping Hemsworth's back and asking him how he was.

I watched them embrace so casually with a feeling of awe. My idol and adopted father stood in a London street with his arms wrapped around the God of Thunder, and I stood a few feet away with my mouth hanging open and my arms dangling limply at my sides, as opposed to three seconds ago, when my hand had sat in the crook of Tom's elbow.

They broke apart, and I suddenly remembered to breathe as Tom reached out a hand to me and I stepped shyly forward. He took my hand and tugged me in front of him, placing his hands on my shoulders as he introduced me to his friend.

'Chris, this is my adopted daughter, uh, Chris.' He said, giving a slight smirk at our matching names. Actor Chris grinned down at me and put out a hand for me to shake. I shook myself out of the frozen state I had fallen into and took his hand, feeling him squeeze as we shook. I smiled a little, and Tom gripped my shoulders tightly for a second, letting me know not to be nervous, he was there with me.

'Great to meet you, Tom's told me loads about you.' The Aussie man said, and I flushed a delicate pink and looked over my shoulder at Tom, who gave me a look that said 'of course I told him about you'. I gave him a small smile, touched that he had been telling people about me.

'Uhm, it's really great to meet you too, I mean, I've seen you before, but only in films, but everyone's seen the Avengers, you were all so amazing. You're a really great actor, Mr Hemsworth.' I rambled, my eyes lowered to the floor as I spoke, hiding the pink in my cheeks. Chris chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled a little in his chest, and made me feel suddenly more confident. I looked up at him, and he was smiling and at ease.

'Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it.' He said. Then Tom stepped in, leaving one arm around my shoulders, he moved to stand next to me.

'So, shall we get going then? We have some shopping to do, and I think Chris and I should get off the street, people are starting to stare.' He said, and I looked around to see several teens and adults staring unashamedly at the three of us. Well, the two of them, anyway. We moved off, strolling up the street and into a shop that Chris pointed out.

Inside, we messed around, trying on ridiculous sunglasses and oversized hats before we began to actually shop. It turned out that Chris and Tom both needed new gym clothes and some fancy clothes for an up-coming avengers premiere. Tom handed me a few notes and told me to pick out anything that I found that I wanted. He also said that he would buy me some fancy clothes too, but that I should shop for myself for a little while first and pick what I wanted. I assumed the fancy clothes was just so that I wouldn't feel left out, but I didn't see the point in wasting Tom's money, so I wandered around and picked out some dark purple skinny jeans, some novelty Kermit the frog socks, a grey beanie hat and a few novelty shirts, including a Thor shirt with our shopping buddy's face on it.

I also quickly disappeared into the underwear section and picked up a few bras, choosing nice ones instead of my usual cheap, dull, boring ones. I paid and carried my bags over to Chris and Tom, who were rifling through racks of suits, shirts, waistcoats and ties. I sat down on one of the round, squashy seats dotted around the store and watched as Tom chose some dark shirts and Chris asked my opinion on which colour tie suited him best. I told him to get the deep scarlet one, (to match Thor's cape) and a royal blue that matched the flecks in his eyes. Once they had both bought a new suit each, Tom buying himself a waistcoat as well, and both had new ties stowed away in their shopping bags, they turned to me.

'Have you chosen something you like?' Asked Chris, and I shrugged, looking behind me at the women's formal dress section.

'I don't really need a fancy dress; I don't want to waste money on one I won't wear.' I said, and they shared a glance that made me feel they were plotting something.

'Actually, Sweetie, you will need one. You're coming with me to the premiere.' Tom said with an impish look on his face. My eyebrows raised in surprise.

'Why? I didn't think families went to those with you? Not that I don't want to, I'd absolutely love to go with you, but I didn't think it was allowed?' I asked, and it was Tom's turn to shrug.

'It's allowed, but people tend to shy away from the red carpet a bit. I figured a future actress such as you would be able to handle it.' He said, and I grinned and hugged him round the middle.

'I take it this means you'll be in need of a dress after all?' Chris asked, and my smile dropped a little.

'You two can help me choose, I have no idea what I should wear. I never really had a reason to wear fancy clothes back in Cornwall.' I said, and they laughed and each grabbed one of my hands, and we spent the next hour and a half shuffling through row upon row of dresses.

Eventually we (mostly Tom and Chris) had picked out seven dresses that I was to try. I took them into the dressing room and pulled the first one on. It was a dark blue, knee length, floaty dress with the skirt cut into layers that fluffed out a little when I walked. The waist was quite tight, and gave me nice curves, and the neckline fell in the shape of a V that wasn't too low. The sleeves were floaty like the skirt and they were quite short so they fell just over my shoulders. I stepped out into the room and was met with approving nods from both men.

Grinning, I stepped back behind the changing room curtain and tried on the other six dresses, each as beautiful as the first. Tom and Chris nodded and smiled for each, but at the end when I changed back into my clothes, they agreed for me that the blue dress looked best on me, so we ditched the others and bought the first dress.

We carried our bags into another café and sat down to have lunch in a secluded spot at the back, after Tom charmed the waitress into giving us a private spot, away from inquisitive eyes.


End file.
